


Know You Want It

by Shayne (Thigh_Bone)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: D/s, Daddy Kink, Feminization, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thigh_Bone/pseuds/Shayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Stiles both know how much Stiles likes this; it just takes a lot to get him to admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know You Want It

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Stiles/any. I'd like some reluctant daddy kink please. Like Stiles loves to be Daddy's good boy, but he hates admitting it, so Daddy makes him say it before he lets Stiles have what he wants."
> 
> Right, I like this one, but my Stiles came out really similar to Stiles in The Art of Begging, whoops. You can pretend this is set in the same 'verse if it makes you feel better. :)

Peter shuffled in close behind Stiles and slapped his dick against the roundness of Stiles’s ass, the sticky _smack_ of it echoing through the stillness of the room. “You ready for me, baby?”

 

Stiles nodded and whispered a hoarse “yeah.” He bit his lip to keep anything more desperate sounding than that inside. That was safe enough to admit; it was the rest of it that he couldn’t let on to.

 

A throaty noise of satisfaction greeted that answer and Peter stroked his free hand down the knobs of Stiles’s spine. “Then reach back and spread yourself for me. Show me how ready you got that pretty little pussy.”

 

Cheeks burning with shame and humiliation, Stiles braced himself on his shoulders and reached back. He grabbed a cheek in each hand and spread himself as asked, baring his fluttering hole to Peter’s view. For as long and as hard as he’d been fingering it open, he knew it would be gaping lewdly.

 

“Yeah.” Peter slapped his hand against Stiles’s opening, three stinging spanks at the center of him.

 

Sharp pain flared through his awareness, and Stiles keened at the rough attention and dug his fingers harder into his own skin to keep from begging.

 

Fitting the fat head of his cock against Stiles’s entrance, Peter pressed forward slightly, just the barest hint of pressure—not enough to actually breach him at all—nothing but a tease. “Look at that fuckhole work, opening and closing like a needy little mouth desperate to be filled.” He rocked forward a few times, skating his length along Stiles’s crack. “How about it baby, you desperate for me to fill you up? Cock first and then a thick load of cum?”

 

Stiles moaned despite his best efforts not to, but he didn’t give any other verbal response. He didn’t have to; the way his hole clutched at Peter’s dick and tried to draw it inside every time Peter rubbed over it was answer enough.

 

Peter snorted. “So stubborn, fight me so hard every time, but we both know what you want, and we both know that I own you.”

 

“No,” Stiles protested weakly and leaned forward. It was really only a pretense at getting away since he didn’t even bother to take his hands off his ass to do it, still presenting his gaping hole to Peter throughout his little flare of rebellion. He just needed to pretend that Peter hadn’t ruined him completely yet; it made him feel better about how thoroughly he gave himself up.

 

Laughing outright, Peter leaned over Stiles and put his hand over the side of Stile’s face, holding him down. “Silly pussy boy. You and I both know you’re not going anywhere until I use this pussy up and drain my balls completely.”

 

Stiles whined and struggled feebly against the pressure of Peter’s weight for a few moments, and then slumped in defeat.

 

“Yeah, that’s it, boy. Give in. Submit and show Daddy how much you want his cock.”

 

Stiles’s eyes stung with unshed tears, but he relaxed more beneath Peter all the same.

 

Peter started pressing inward, filling Stiles. “Good boy, such a good little pussy boy for Daddy.”

 

Stiles panted and clutched desperately at the meat of his ass.

 

Peter kept pushing in and in, slow and inexorable, seeming to never run out of cock to feed Stiles.  When his hips were flush with Stiles’s ass, he draped himself across Stiles's back, planting one hand on the bed and the other clenching down tighter on Stiles's hip. He used his weight to ride Stiles down, forcing him to spread his legs further until Stiles was just barely off the mattress, cock barely dragging along the sheets and pinning him completely, leaving his boy unable to move beneath Peter's mass.

 

The head of Stiles’s cock slid across the bedsheets in a tantalizing drag. Peter felt incredible inside him, but he wasn’t _moving,_ and Stiles needed to be fucked. He moaned and circled his hips, trying to hump back against Peter; nothing was too shameful to feel that cock moving inside him.

 

Peter's face dipped down beside Stiles's and his lips brushed over the shell of Stiles's ear, whispering filth in a sinful voice. “Hold still for a minute, baby. Wanna feel you. Feel you opening up wide to take my cock. Love the way that sweet little boy pussy struggles to take me all the way.”

 

Stiles whined desperately, totally unconcerned with the fact that it made him sound like so damned needy, and tried in vain to roll his hips again. He couldn’t move very much with all of Peter’s weight on top of him, could barely hitch his lower body back and forth and all it did was smear his cock through the mess he’d leaked on the sheets and ratchet his need up higher. This wasn't enough, it wasn't fair for Peter to ask him to stay still; there were still too many shadows in the corners of his mind and he needed Peter to drive them away. With his cock. “Need you to move.”

 

“Not yet. Needy little bitches in heat don’t get what they want by demanding it.” Peter's fingers tightened even further, strong and unyielding against Stiles’s skin, completely preventing any movement. “But you know how you can get it. Say it. You know what I need to hear, baby. You know what it’s going to take to get me to dick you down like you need.”

 

Stiles’s fingers curled helplessly around his own skin, and he bit his lip desperately. The word was right there, huge and looming in his mind, stuck in his throat choking him. He couldn’t say it, he _couldn’t._ Stiles shook his head in pitiful and pointless defiance.

 

Peter laughed a little, and shifted his hips back a fraction, the tiniest of movements, only a tease. “Tell me whose big cock is splitting you open and making you moan like a whore. Not gonna give you what you want till you say it.”

 

There was no way he was giving in to that demand; something about that request filled Stiles with no small amount of terror. Giving Peter that much control over him and his pleasure could be a really dangerous thing. He tried yet again to buck backwards and take what he wanted for himself, not wanting to acquiesce. “Shit.” Tears of frustration prickled at the corners of his eyes, making his eyelashes stick together when his eyelids fluttered.

 

Peter moved his mouth to the back of Stiles's neck and bit down sharply in a move that demanded capitulation and somehow pressed more weight down on Stiles, forcing him lower, trapping him further. “Nuh-uh baby, stay still. No fucking until I make sure you realize exactly what's happening here. Make sure you think about the fact that you're letting a guy you can barely stand fuck you open and you're just begging for more. Make sure you understand that you’re so desperate for a Man’s attention that you gave up that tight little hole to the first person who promised to fill it up.”

 

Stiles shook his head and pressed his face against the mattress, trying desperately to hide his face from view, to not show Peter just how close he was to breaking. He couldn't give Peter what he wanted, couldn't say the words, but he couldn't help thinking about it. Couldn't help that the fact that he pretty much hated Peter was all he'd been thinking about all week when he'd jerked off and he couldn't help how hot that got him. Couldn’t help that the endless stream of shameful, degrading words kept playing through his mind and that’s what had tipped him over the finish-line. It was a tough thing not to give in, but he just couldn't. It felt way too much like acknowledging that there was something between them, that Peter had some hold on him, and that just wasn't going to happen.

 

Growling heatedly, Peter bit down on the skin of Stiles's neck again, and dug his fingertips sharply into the flesh of his hip. Stiles would definitely be bruised in both places tomorrow. Voice shredded ragged, Peter growled out more pornography. “Any other time you can barely say two words to me, but you get one look at my cock and you're just fucking gagging for it, ready to hit your knees or let me bend you over any fucking way I want. So fucking _say it_. Stop pretending you’re something other than a shameless little boywhore and that you’ve got any dignity left. We both know I milked the last of that out of that pretty little clit standing up between your legs the very first time I put you on your knees and worked over your virgin cunt.”

 

Peter's words and his teeth and his tone of voice, the way he totally owned Stiles, totally shut his brain off and made everything but pleasure go dark slayed Stiles. Tore down his resistance and ate his protests. That this man that he could barely acknowledge in a public setting, couldn't manage to speak to civilly, could bring him to this, could strip everything from him with such brutal efficiency was frankly terrifying.

 

Breath rushing out in what was damn near a sob, Stiles let himself go boneless and sink all the way down to the mattress, giving up and giving himself to Peter completely. Defeated, he whispered brokenly, desperately, feeling like the words were ripped from his throat. “Please Daddy. _Use me._ ” His words cut off with a wrecked sob, but he forced himself to finish it. “Fuck, fuck my pussy, please,” he stuttered, and the world exploded into color and light and pleasure.

 

It might take some convincing, but he and Peter both knew how much Stiles loved being Daddy’s pussy boy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come prompt me on tumblr. http://twboned.tumblr.com/


End file.
